


in so deep

by allonsy_gabriel



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bonding Over Emotional Issues, Catharsis, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Musical References, Past Relationship(s), Sad, just really sad, semi-happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: hey what's up i recently reread Ring's magic portal au and had Thoughts so i wrote thisit's sadjusta Heads Upalso Ring i'm sorry i made your only Angst Free series,,, no longer Angst Free





	in so deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanna_Black_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanna_Black_Slytherin/gifts).



> hey what's up i recently reread Ring's magic portal au and had Thoughts so i wrote this
> 
> it's sad
> 
> just
> 
> a Heads Up
> 
> also Ring i'm sorry i made your only Angst Free series,,, no longer Angst Free

Somedays, Alexander doesn't leave his room. Somedays, the world is too bright, too loud, too  _ new, _ and it all lays heavy like an anvil on his heart.

His body is young, yes, but his soul is  _ old _ , old and covered in mistakes—no, not mistakes, mistakes imply that the outcome was not what he intended; his soul is covered in  _ sins _ , in  _ misdeeds _ , laid so thick they covered every inch. This new world is too  _ good _ for such a soul, and so Alexander resigns himself to his room, and to the silence that accompanies it.

Because the song was right—there  _ are _ moments that the words don't reach.

Sometimes, Alexander wonders what Mr. Miranda experienced that led him to understand that so well.

John has long since given up on reaching him on those days. He allows Alexander his space, allows him the quiet, and when Alexander is finally willing to open the door, he’s there with a comforting word and his arms around his partner’s shoulders.

But he doesn’t  _ understand _ .

He wasn’t  _ there _ , wasn’t there for the bitter, bloody end of it all. He never witnessed Alexander’s weakness, Maria’s touch, Angelica’s screams, the last words on Philip’s lips or the way Eliza  _ sobbed _ .

It’s cold and it’s dark, and it doesn’t  _ stop _ . Those days still cling to him like burrs on woolen breeches, like blood on blue coats and brass buttons.

It’s one of those days when Alexander’s shaken out of his stupor by four short, sharp knocks on the door.

“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, I know I said we’d discuss your questions about Constitutional intention, but I simply can _ no _ —”

“Guess again, Secretary Sad Sack.”

Tony’s words are dry and sharp, cutting through the rest of Alexander’s words like a bayonet.

“Tony, please, not today,” Alexander asks—no,  _ pleads _ —through the door, clenching and unclenching his fists as he represses the full body shudder that threatens to shake him to his core.

“Not an option, Alex,” Tony replies, all joking gone from his voice.

Alexander feels something rising in the back of his throat. “What are you going to do, then?” he snaps. “Break down the godforsaken door?”

Tony clears his throat. “ _ No _ ,” he says evenly. “Just this— JARVIS, open the door.”

Alexander swears under his breath as the door swings open, revealing Tony Stark in all his hair gelled, sunglasses-ed glory. He plucks on the cuff of his jacket sleeve as he makes his way to the edge of Alexander’s bed and plops himself down like he owns the damn place.

Which he does, Alexander thinks as he swears again.

“So,” Tony says. “You’re still hung up on… smallpox? Yellow fever? A complete lack of indoor plumbing?”

Alexander scoffs and turns away.

“Alex—”

“ _ Don’t _ .”

It’s quiet for a moment—a miracle, considering the company that’s being kept—and then Tony sighs.

“It’s guilt, isn’t it?” he asks solemnly.

It’s the voice of a man who’s been up too many a night, staring at the sky and wondering  _ how _ and  _ why _ .

It’s a voice Alexander hears every time he opens his mouth.

He can’t help but nod.

There’s another pause, and then,

“You had a wife, right?”

Alexander clears his throat and blinks a few times, desperately trying to regain his composure. “Yes,” he finally answers after what feels like too long a silence.

“And kids?”

“Eight.”

Tony whistles low.

“And they…?”

“Lived,” Alexander says. “All of them but Philip lived long after I…”

He can’t continue.

“Get up,” Tony says after a minute. “Come on, get up.”

“Tony, really—”

“This isn’t optional. Seriously, let’s go,” Tony repeats, standing to his feet and heading to the door.

“What are we even  _ doing _ ?” Alexander asks as he follows him to the elevator.

“You’ve got regrets,” Tony states. The elevator doors close behind them. “And I’ve got a truly  _ inspired  _ idea.”

***

The lab is empty, sides from Dum-E and U buzzing about, and Alexander has to take another moment to marvel at the wonders of this new life he’s been given.

A life he doesn’t deserve.

He winces and looks away.

“You got any paper? A pen?” Tony asks, bustling about the cupboards and cabinets and closets that store…  _ whatever _ it is he works with down here.

“Yes,” Alexander responds. He always has  _ something _ to write on—a receipt or an old bookmark or a beat little notebook—and a Pilot G-2 .7mm gel pen tucked away  _ somewhere _ .

“Get it out,” Tony prompts as he places a metal bucket and a few rags on the table. There’s a plastic jug under his arm.

“What do you want me to  _ do _ ?” Alexander asks, glancing between the notepad in his hand and the match in Tony’s.

“What do you do best, Hamilton?” Tony retorts. “ _ Write _ .”

He places the gasoline-soak rags in the bucket and lights a match, and suddenly, Alexander understands.

The irony of it all is not lost on him, even as he fills page after page with near-illegible scrawl. His transgressions are going up in smoke a second time.

The circle is closing.

Neither he nor Tony speaks as the paper fragments are unceremoniously dropped in the bucket.

Neither has to.

They both understand.

**Author's Note:**

> yELL at me if you want tbh
> 
> if you wanna yell at me on tumblr find me at allonsy-gabriel


End file.
